


Learning Curves

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara interviews for a job as Cat Grant's assistant and finds that if she gets hired, that going down on her boss will be part of the job.  </p><p>THIS IS EASILY MY MOST QUESTIONABLE WORK AND PORTRAYS A DYNAMIC THAT IS NOT NECESSARILY HEALTHY.  ENJOY IT AS A WORK OF PORN BUT READERS SHOULD BE AWARE THAT WHILE HOT, IT IS NOT AN EXAMPLE OF RELATIONSHIP GOALS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [streepytime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/streepytime/gifts).



_ The three L’s.  Lattes hot, lettuce wraps crisp, Lexapro stocked.  All the mail opened before it lands on her desk.  The only call that ever gets put through without screening is Cat’s son, Carter.  The only call that never gets put through, no matter what, even if they claim to be dying, is Cat’s mother, Catherine.  Cat Grant likes her office just so; the temperature has to be exactly seventy four degrees, the pen on her desk has to be full of ink, her pencils need to be sharp and there needs to be Coltrane playing on the speakers in the corner, on very low volume.  She wants the energy in the room, but needs to be able to hear herself think.  She needs the day’s broadsheets stacked on the right hand side of the table that rests in between the two couches in her office.   _

_ Her itinerary is incredibly full and incredibly precise but subject to almost constant change.  Best to try to commit as much of it as possible to memory because she will ask you things and expect you to know the answers whether you are at your desk or standing in front of her without your trusty iPad in hand.  She will expect you to know what she needs before she realizes she needs it.  And you are to sound businesslike and upbeat but not overly sunny and cheerful when answering the phone.  Cat Grant can’t have the first voice that the Sultan of Brunei or Rupert Murdoch encounters when calling her office sound like some perky sixteen year old cheerleader. _

So far, the job was stressful, but it was stressful in more or less the way that Kara had expected a job like this to be.  And despite the pressures, Cat had offhandedly mentioned that loyalty and performance would be rewarded, so there was that.  And not least of all, she was working for  _ Cat Grant.  The  _ Cat Grant.  She’d grown up watching her tart-tongued punditry on the Sunday morning shows that Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers used to watch over their coffee and papers.  Kara wouldn’t go so far as to call it a crush, exactly, but she did… well… admire her, she guessed.

It had been a stressful couple of weeks and a lot of long hours getting up to speed with all the ways that Cat liked things, but Kara was a quick study and a hard worker and she hadn’t been banished from the place in tears yet, so she supposed she was doing alright.  That was what Winn assured her, at least.  And while she wouldn’t say she was “relaxing” into the job, exactly, she was getting more confident that she could be the superhero assistant that Cat needed.  In fact, she wondered how exactly anyone could be Cat’s assistant without superpowers.  After all, she made careful, covert use of her powers nearly every day in order to be effective in her job.  

So no, relaxing into the role was not a good word, but she was becoming more convinced of the idea that she could do it.  And after two weeks at CatCo, she was starting to even believe that the part of her job description that had most stunned and flustered her in the interview was not really something that was going to be expected of her.  That it was some weird technique of Cat’s to throw her off or see how badly she wanted the job or something.  

Because it had been an uncomfortable interview, but until that one moment, it had been within the bounds of what she might have expected for someone as powerful and demanding as Cat Grant.  Cat had looked her over, declared her disgust with self-involved millennials, but Kara was startlingly quick to assure Cat Grant that she was absolutely nothing special and had absolutely no delusions toward being anything special because she hadn’t distinguished herself yet.  Cat had looked intrigued when she said this. Then Kara had offered to make pharmacy runs for her, spotted that her pen was out of ink, and declared that she wanted nothing more than to be useful to someone.

Cat had looked further intrigued.

She’d leaned forward in her chair and gave Kara a look that peered down into places that Kara hoped she couldn’t actually see.  “I require complete devotion from my assistants,” she’d told her slowly, putting big, heavy weights on each word.  “Can you give me that?”

Kara had smiled nervously. “Oh, yes, of course!”

She felt her eyes getting diverted to the screen behind Cat on the wall, showing images of a forest fire in progress.  She felt torn for a moment, knowing that she  _ could _ do something about that, but as ever, hearing Eliza and Jeremiah and Alex’s voices in her head, telling her,  _ It’s not safe for you to do those things… All you need to do is be the best Kara Danvers you can be.   _

Cat’s voice had then dropped to a low growl that vibrated in Kara’s spine.  “As my assistant, are you prepared to give your life to CatCo, and to see to  _ all my needs? _ ”

Kara’s knees felt slightly watery.  “Of… of course,” she said, trying to keep her breath.  What on earth could that mean to a woman like Cat Grant?  Whatever it was, Kara knew she could do it.  That was what she told herself, at least.  

There was a long, awkward silence.  Kara really wanted to sit, like most other job interviews she’d been on, but since she’d been standing this entire time, it seemed awkward to sit down now.  Cat crooked a finger, and Kara leaned down, resting her elbows on the desk.  Cat had continued to stare at her.  “Tell me something, oh Ordinary Millennial.”

“Y-yes, Miss Grant?”

“How would you rate your cunnilingus skills?”

Kara’s heart stopped.  “My … my what?”

“Did I stutter?” Cat had asked her with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, no… I just….”  Kara’s brain struggled to comprehend what her interviewer had just asked her.  “I mean … is that … is that part of the job?”

Cat had sighed and given her a little eyeroll.  “No, I’m making idle conversation.  YES, it’s part of the job.  Do you have this skill or not?  Scale of one to ten.”

Kara felt flushed from head to toe.  She was almost the color of the burgundy sweater she was wearing.  “Er, well...I don’t have any experience…”

“So, zero,”  Cat sighed.

Kara had a split second moment to decide.  She should walk out.  Shouldn’t she?  This was sexual harassment, wasn’t it?  She wasn’t going to tolerate that, was she?  Even from someone she admired?   _ Especially _ from a woman she admired?

“To be clear,” Cat added, sounding irritated that she had to clarify, “your hiring is not contingent on your answer.  But I need to know whether you are comfortable with this being part of the job.”

Her heart was racing.  She wanted a job. But she also wanted this job.  She wanted to do something that meant something and this was a place that she could do it, maybe.  And before she could have a rational, thought-out response, it came out of her mouth in a breathless jumble as she leaned forward on her elbows on Cat’s glass-top desk:  “Like I said, Miss Grant, I’m a hard worker and I care, and I’m a quick learner.  And I’m ready to devote my life to CatCo and to you.”

Cat’s face broke into a smile unlike anything Kara had seen:  pleased, tickled even, but somehow murderous and adorable, the smile of someone who reveled in knowing that she could have more or less whatever she wanted.

“Good.  Show me what you’ve got.”

Kara straightened up, looking shocked.  “Wha- what?”

“Show me what you’ve got,” Cat repeated, more seriously now.

Kara glanced around at the all-glass walls of the office, and the people moving back and forth in the bullpen outside.  “Now?”  she squeaked.

“Nobody actually looks in here…”  She paused, glancing down at Kara’s resume sitting on her desk.  “...Kiera.  They’re afraid of catching my eye.” 

Kara glanced over her shoulder again.  It was true, nobody seemed to want to look at Cat Grant.  They all seemed terrified of her in fact.  Was it really possible that nobody would see?

Cat crooked her finger and Kara walked around the desk and stood in front of her.

“Well?” she said coolly.

Full of trepidation, Kara began to argue weakly, “But Miss Grant, all those people out there… shouldn’t you at least have me close the door?”

“What would be the point, Kiera, the door is made of glass.”  Cat looked at her pointedly, her green eyes dark and piercing, and then picked up one of her expensive pens, and very deliberately, dropped it on the floor in between them.  “Pick up my pen, would you, please?”

Kara knelt down, and picked it up, and looked up at Cat Grant.  Was she really even considering this?  Unbidden, she licked her lips nervously.

Cat sighed and snatched the pen from her.  “Well, alright.  I see you’re serious about your level of devotion.  You can get up.”

Kara let out a slow breath of relief and stood back up.

Cat gave her one last once-over and waved dismissively.  “As I’m sure you saw my previous assistant running away in tears, I hope you can start tomorrow.”

And Kara had left, uncertain about how she was supposed to feel.  She got the job.   _ The _ job.  The one she wanted.  She was thrilled.  She should be, she supposed.  

She’d lain in bed that night, everything in her roiling.  Cat had seemed dead serious about that job requirement.  And in that moment, she realized with a mix of shock and amusement, she’d been willing to do it.  Cat had confident, effortless ownership of her own power and Kara had been surprisingly intoxicated by that.  She couldn’t stop wondering whether, if push came to shove, she’d have really done it right there, because she had sense memories of that moment that didn’t scrub away in the shower.  The way Cat looked down at her as though she already possessed her.  The murmur of the office traffic beyond the door.  The mild breezes on the back of her neck coming through the open door of her terrace.  The smell of Cat’s perfume and underneath that, her body.  For a girl who had spent the last twelve years trying to not be seen, the idea of servicing Cat Grant, in her seat of power, in a glass room where anyone and everyone could watch, feeling the eyes on her, so many eyes, watching her submit herself to Cat Grant’s needs … her body ambushed her with a sudden, stubborn wave of arousal.

_ No, no, no, no,  _ she scolded it.

But it had taken her a very long time to fall asleep that night.  

And now, after a few weeks in the job, Cat had not asked for that.  And Kara was starting to think she wouldn’t.  That it had indeed been some sort of test, some psychological tactic.  Cat seemed satisfied with her so far, or as satisfied as someone like Cat Grant was capable of being.

So, she was blindsided on this particular late evening when, with the bullpen empty and most of the normal, decent employees of CatCo having gone home, Cat sauntered up to her desk, hand on hip, and stood looking at her for a moment.

Kara looked up.   She saw that look.  It was the look she’d had during their interview when she’d dropped that pen on the floor.

“Kiera,” she said quietly, “you’ve been managing so far to not be a  _ complete _ disaster.  I am beginning to think that you may actually manage to stay in this job.”

Kara’s heart raced more than it should have at that.

“Come with me to the conference room.”

Kara gulped.  “What… what’s going on in the conference room?”   


Cat pursed her lips for a moment and looked at Kara, considering her.  “The beginning of your training.”

“But Miss Grant, I’m pretty well up to speed by now–”

“Not on everything, Kiera.”  She walked away from Kara’s desk, tossing a glance over her shoulder.  “Come on.  Chop chop.  I don’t have all night.”

 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

The door to the conference room clicked shut behind them. Kara wasn’t aware of whether she was actually breathing or not. If she was, she couldn’t feel or hear it happening. Her entire chest cavity felt as though it were seized up. She watched the sinuous movement of Cat’s body through the fabric of her black Norma Kamali sheath dress. For some reason, despite being fairly sure that she knew what was about to happen, she didn’t use her super-vision to look through it. Let some mystery remain for now.

She stared at the black fabric clinging to Cat’s shape in all the best, most flattering ways that perfectly-tailored, expensive dresses did, and found herself mesmerized by the variations in its texture and color. It wasn’t simply black: it featured panels of slightly lighter shades of very, very dark grey, and it looked like those were a softer, more textured material. Kara’s peculiar sensory needs drew her to fabrics like that. It took all her willpower not to trace a finger down Miss Grant’s back, down between her shoulder blades, down to the base of her spine, to soak up all those lovely variations.

But she didn’t. She wasn’t being asked for that.

Cat strode to the large, black leather chair at the head of the table. Kara had watched enough meetings in her two weeks to know that Cat Grant rarely sat when she conducted meetings. She was too energetic. She was electric, and nobody stopped looking at her when she was speaking or even just pacing back and forth in front of the smartboard, waiting for someone to say something intelligent.

But this evening, she sat, and beckoned Kara to come closer.

“Do you recall, Kiera, everything that was included in your duties when we interviewed?”

How could I forget? Kara thought. So it was going to happen, finally. Miss Grant had just wanted to wait to make sure Kara was actually going to work out before she took things to this place. She nodded wordlessly and drew nearer to where her boss sat, looking ready to conduct a different sort of meeting.

“And are you still comfortable with everything we discussed?”

Kara shifted nervously. “Well, I wouldn’t say comfortable...”

Cat sighed. “Fine, then–”

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it!” Kara finished, a little too quickly.

Cat studied her for a moment. “You’re sure?”

Kara nodded.

Cat smiled faintly. “Good. Then let’s begin.” She lifted herself slightly up off of the chair and hiked the hem of her dress up, then sat down, relaxing her legs and letting her knees sit slightly apart. But the dress still kept everything that mattered hidden in shadow.

Kara licked her lips again, a pointless gesture since her mouth was completely dry at the moment.

“Are you waiting for an engraved invitation, Kiera? On your knees, dear. Chop chop.” Oddly, her tone, while commanding, wasn’t quite as harsh as her words should have made them sound.

Kara knelt down in front of the chair. After a moment of hesitation and not quite knowing what to do with her hands, she placed them on the seat cushion, on either side of Cat’s legs. She stared at the floor, not feeling like she had the strength to look Cat Grant in the face, but not quite feeling ready to look at what was directly in front of her.

Cat Grant began to speak. Her voice was even and businesslike, but she had somehow softened the clipped edges of her speech, ever so slightly. “Alright, Kiera. Are you ready?”

Kara shrugged, still not looking up. “Ready as I’m ever going to be.” This was crazy. She didn’t want to do this. Did she? She thought of the way her body had bloomed with heat the night she’d been hired when she thought about doing this in full view of the office. Did she? Maybe she did.

Cat put a finger beneath Kara’s chin and tilted her face up, pointing Kara’s gaze directly at her. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. “I’m not joking. Are you absolutely certain? I can't have you claiming later that you were in any way coerced.”

Kara nodded, her resistance wilting under the weight of Cat’s molten stare. There was no maybe. She was afraid of it, but she was sure.

Cat hiked the hem of her dress up a little more, revealing skimpy black panties edged with lace. Victoria’s Secret, Kara guessed, though she had little frame of reference and suspected it was probably something classier than that. She bit her lip. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Cat kicked off her shoes and bent one leg up toward her chest, resting her heel on the chair. She shifted a little and let the other leg stretch out, loll out to the side a little more, making room. She reached down with one manicured hand and pulled aside the the thin slip of silky underwear, exposing herself. Kara suddenly became intensely, insanely aware of the smell of Cat’s sex, her eyes becoming stuck on the immaculately trimmed, dark blond bush in front of her, and how it parted down the middle, showing a sliver of tender, pink flesh. She bit her lip harder and looked up again.

“What… how do I…?” she asked helplessly.

Cat Grant was not a woman with a lot of patience, and Kara had the distinct feeling that this exercise was going to strain all of it. “Start with some kissing,” she told Kara.

Kara, still bracing her hands on the seat cushion, leaned forward and started to kiss the older woman’s smooth inner thigh, working her way up slowly. It was less to tease Cat and more for her own benefit, for working up her courage. She heard Cat sigh impatiently and was peripherally aware of her glancing at her watch. “Sorry, Miss Grant,” she mumbled, and leaned further in.

She felt another sigh escape Cat’s lips, although she wasn’t sure if it was impatience this time. She was too trapped in the moment, in feeling the rough thatch of hair scraping against her lips as she pressed in. Oh God, was all she could think. She burrowed in until she found more of the soft flesh, and kissed for a few moments. She felt Cat’s hand tap her shoulder. “With tongue, Kiera. You do know how to do that, don't you?”

Kara felt weak. She gripped the seat cushion harder and, with a fierce blush in her cheeks, she hesitantly introduced the tip of her tongue into the warm, pink folds in front of her. The taste was strong, but not unpleasant, and not quite what she had expected. It yanked her through six different sense memories at once before depositing her back where she was. After a moment, Cat, clearly working very hard to be patient, sighed and said, “Alright, look… Why don't you… Why don't you just… Just lick, alright? Let's start there.”

Kara couldn't help feeling desperate. She was failing. This was going horribly. All she wanted was to be useful, and this was what Cat Grant needed from her, and she was failing. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep back any hot little tears that might be thinking about slipping out, and whispered between Cat’s legs, “Okay, just tell me how. Tell me what you like, tell me how to do it and I'll do exactly what you say.”

“Just…. at the top,” Cat answered at first, still sounding like she was trying not to seem too annoyed. “All the good stuff is at the top.”

Kara began to lick carefully at the little nub of flesh at the top of Cat’s sex, and for the first time, heard a little approving noise from her. Her heart gloried in it. She continued for a few minutes more until Cat’s finger reached down and again, lifted Kara’s chin. “Stop a minute, Kiera.”

Kara stared up at her, eyes wild and desperate. “Please, Miss Grant, I told you I've never done this before…”

Cat nodded, and assured her, “I know that. And you're doing just as you've been told so far. That's good. Now I want to show you something.” She held up her manicured index finger. “Watch closely.”

She brought the finger up to her mouth and wet it on her tongue, then brought it down between her legs. Kara watched, frozen, trembling (she hoped) internally. Cat brought her other hand down and spread herself open further, so that Kara could see in breathtaking detail exactly what was happening. Kara's eyes were fixed on Cat’s finger. She watched Cat drag it in slow, soft circles around her clit. Kara heard a quiet exhale and was aware of Cat’s eyes closing, taking a little pleasure in her own stroking.

Kara couldn't breathe.

Cat opened her eyes and looked down at her. “Do that… But with your tongue.”

Kara’s chest flooded with relief. Clear, specific instruction. She leaned forward again and followed. Tentatively, she drew the tip of her tongue around Cat’s clit, moving in slow circles the way she'd been shown. She heard the little approving sounds and continued with a little more confidence. It was working. She could tell because after a few minutes (she couldn’t be sure how many) Cat’s breathing had thickened a little, her hips were tilted forward to meet Kara’s mouth, and the taste of her grew stronger on Kara’s tongue.

But still she had to pause, draw a quick, tense breath and ask: “Is it okay?” She couldn’t look up. She fixed her gaze on the horizon of Cat’s thigh. But she knew Cat was watching her.

Cat shushed her and pressed Kara’s mouth back into her, but didn't break her gaze; glasses pushed down her nose, her hot, piercing stare devouring Kara over the tops of her three thousand dollar glasses with the little diamond studs in the corners. That faint smile playing around the corners of her mouth. _She's watching me,_ Kara thought, and something fluttered between her legs.

“Faster,” Cat ordered after a few minutes, “and…” She waved a hand, gesturing vaguely. “...less around, and more up and down.”

Kara took a breath and began lapping at her more quickly, dragging the flat of her tongue from the bottom, where Cat’s taste was stronger, up to the top and back down again.

Cat tapped her shoulder. “You’re not painting a fence, Kiera, just focus on top. You’re not enough of a pro for that yet.”

Squeezing her eyes shut and trying to not to think about her embarrassment, she focused her efforts on the small, stiff bud of Cat’s clit, licking faster, up and down. She felt Cat’s hips shift against her mouth again and heard a long sigh escape. It was a good sound, Kara decided. It was the sound of Cat Grant getting what she wanted. Cat was gripping the arms of the chair, moving herself slightly against Kara’s mouth. Kara tasted her, those flavors of salt water and mango and that dark, thick Kryptonian drink whose name she could no longer recall, getting stronger. She felt the pitch of Cat’s body in the chair shift lower, felt her opening more. Kara was thrilling at it in ways that filled her with guilt, but not enough guilt to take away the thrill. Her own breathing quickened. The guilt tangled itself in the thrill till they were indistinguishable. The smell of Cat’s perfume, the scent of the leather of the chair, became enormous in her senses. The movement of her lips became less thought and more instinct and she found her lips closing around Cat’s clit and sucking.

Cat Grant was not a moaner, but her orgasm was unmistakable and Kara had accidentally found the thing that pushed her over the edge. Kara could hear her heartbeat peaking as she came, felt the weight of her breath, the shivers of release run through her muscles. She had done her job. She felt satisfied. She felt sick. She immediately wanted to do it again. But she pulled back, wiped her mouth, and remained on her knees, waiting to be told what to do next.

Cat glanced around. She pulled a handkerchief from her purse and Kara immediately understood. She took it and gently wiped Cat down, and then watched with a sinking disappointment as Cat returned her undergarments to their proper place, took the handkerchief back from her and dropped it in her purse, and stood up. She looked down at Kara, and Kara looked back at her, not even knowing what she wanted to hear.

“It wasn't terrible,” she decided, looking at her thoughtfully. “But, obviously it needs work. I hope you're committed.” She glanced at the wet spot on the chair. “Don't forget to tidy up.”

And she left without another word, leaving Kara kneeling on the floor, shaking. She waited silently, until she was completely sure that Cat was gone. Then she allowed herself the luxury of collapsing forward onto the chair with a little sob, but whether it sprang from relief or shame or something else entirely, she couldn't tell. She licked every last trace of Cat Grant’s taste of the seat cushion, and then dried it with the sleeve of her sweater.

She was also wetter than she'd ever been in her life, but she couldn't begin to deal with that now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara seeks advice from Alex, and spends a little time thinking about how to get better at making her boss happy.

Kara lay in bed that night, and after staring at the lines the blinds made on the wall with the moonlight for half an hour, she called Alex.

“Hey, sis… it’s a little late.  You ok?” 

Her sister’s voice was warm, sturdy.  Kara relaxed slightly.  “Um… yeah, yeah, I’m ok.”

“You sound off.  Just tired, or what?”

“Yeah, just tired.  The new gig is… is really demanding.  I just needed to hear your voice.”  Alex’s voice in the dark made Kara feel small and safe.  It uncomplicated things for her, even if it was only temporary.

“I have no doubt you can handle Cat Grant,” Alex assured her.

“I’m not so sure.”

Alex paused.  “Well… I mean, you’re keeping up, right?  You’re not making mistakes or anything?”

Kara sighed.  “No, I think I’m keeping up.  It’s just my insecurity talking.”  She sighed.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what?”

Kara hesitated.  Was she really going to even peripherally involve Alex?  “Have you… have you ever been with other women?”

Alex chuckled a little, and Kara blushed.  “Now I see why you’re calling me up late at night and feeling moody.  Well, um, you know … in college and, uh … yeah, a few times.  I wasn’t exactly sober most of those times, but, yes.  It wasn’t a big deal.”  She paused awkwardly.  “So, is there a lucky girl, or are you just… wondering?”

Kara wondered about things, sometimes.  Alex knew that.  Kara wondered about things that other people took for granted because they were human.  Her wonderings led her down paths of research and synthesis and in the end they often didn’t end up with anything other than the foregone conclusion, but Kara inevitably wondered about things.  It was a process.  “Well, you could say there’s a girl, sort of.  And I don’t really know what to do.”

“When you say you don’t know what to do, you mean sex, right?”

“God, Alex.”

“I just want to make sure I understand.”

“Well…. Yeah.  I just… I’ve avoided certain things.  Because … because I don’t know what’s going to happen with  _ me _ , you know?  I don’t want to lose control and hurt someone.”  Kara was starting to regret this conversation.  “Like, when you went with those girls, like, how did you…?”  She faltered.  She wasn’t even sure what she was asking exactly.   _ How did you figure out what to do? _

Alex sighed.  “Well, it helps to know what feels good to you, first.  If you don’t have a frame of reference, it’s a lot harder.  It’s the difference between intellectually knowing the physics of riding a skateboard and having physically ridden one and knowing how it feels underneath you and how it responds to your weight…. You know what I mean?”

That was pretty much the answer Kara was afraid of.  She wasn’t going to be any good to Cat Grant until she had some idea of what it felt like to get off the way people did.  She also was left with the unfortunate problem of wondering what it would be like to be underneath Cat, responding to her weight.   _ Thanks, Alex. _

“I mean…”  Alex paused.  “There hasn’t been anyone you haven’t told me about, has there?”

“No,” Kara admitted miserably.  She’d had a few boyfriends that she’d fooled around with but didn’t sleep with, and she had always been a “giver”.  She had learned what they liked, and done it for them, but it inevitably frustrated most of them that she never allowed them to reciprocate.  

“So, you haven’t had someone–”

“No, I have not had any guests in my pants, Alex.  Not in any way, shape or form.”

Kara could hear the sympathy and amusement in Alex’s voice.  “OK.  Well… have you gotten off, you know, _ at all? _  Even by yourself?”

Kara was dying inside but Alex was the only person who could ask her that.  “No,” she admitted miserably.

Alex sighed.  “OK, well, that’s probably the first order of business.”  And then she launched into Big Sister, Organized Scientist mode.  “You need to work that out.  Go spend some time with your detachable shower head.”

“What?”

“A girl’s best friend,” Alex snickered.

Kara paused.  “Wait … is that why you always took such long showers in high school?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And why there was NEVER any hot water left for me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!”  Kara laughed.  “You suck!”  

They both collapsed laughing for a minute.

Then Kara caught her breath and added, “Anyway, mine doesn’t detach, so… what else have you got?”

“Well… I’d tell you to drink some wine but I know that doesn’t help you.  But, you know.  Set the mood a little.  Light some candles, put on some music, burn some incense or whatever, put on a porno and, you know … spend a little time with yourself.”

If it was possible to have performance anxiety about pleasuring herself alone in a dark room, Kara was having it.  “I don’t know about porn, Alex…” she began to object.

“Well, you could probably find some girl on girl stuff, and you know, you could learn something about that while you’re figuring out your own lady bits.  I’m thinking about big picture, here.”  

Kara could hear that Alex had gotten up and wandered into the kitchen and was now trying to quietly eat something while they talked.

“What are you eating?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.  What are you eating?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“Shut up, idiot.  She’s not my girlfriend.”   _ And she never will be, because that’s so not what this is and I don’t know how I feel about that. _

“Yet.”  Alex snickered.  “A banana muffin.  A really good one from the L&L.”  Having been caught, Alex abandoned her efforts to be discreet, and sloppily told Kara around a mouthful of muffin, “Look, honestly, if you don’t have to be in super-early tomorrow, I’d suggest you hang up with me right now and go have at it, sweetie.”

Kara frowned and said nothing.  She listened to Alex’s contented munching sounds for a moment.  “OK, I’m going to get off–”

“Good.”

“ _ –the phone, _ now, Alex.”

She hung up.

The apartment was quiet.  Her heartbeat was already slightly quickened, nervous, and the tips of her fingers tingled with anxious anticipation.  She padded, barefoot, across the wooden floor and ticked off the list in her head.  She dug around and found some hurricane candles under the sink, put them around the bedroom, and lit them.  She didn’t really keep incense in the house, so that was a no-go, but she found a nice lavender perfume in the bathroom that she rarely wore but that made her feel relaxed, so after considering it for a moment, she sprayed a little on her pillowcase.  She thumbed through the playlists on her iPhone, trying to pick out something that felt right.  She settled on Paula Cole’s “This Fire,” the soundtrack album of her early teen years that had often played through the walls of Alex’s room, and that Kara still found mesmerizing and seductive.

_ Like Cat Grant. _

She started to push that thought out of her head and then stopped.  No, that was the opposite of the point of this exercise.  She let herself linger in the simple thought of looking at the back of Cat’s dress as they’d walked to the conference room, watching the shift of her hips as she moved down the hall.  Kara had liked the boyfriends she’d had, some of them had been handsome and even charming, but she hadn’t felt this with any of them.  This thump of desire, this slow-burning heat that started low in her belly and dripped down between her legs.

She set her laptop on the nightstand next to the bed and flipped it open.  It took a bit of digging but she found a video that gave her what she wanted.  It wasn’t a girl on girl video, as Alex had suggested; it was just a gorgeous blonde from the “MILF” section of PornHub, relaxing naked, poolside, on a lounge chair, stroking herself in the sunshine.  She left the sound off on the video, because the subject was moaning a little too much for her liking (she had the brief thought that she was glad Cat wasn’t a moaner, it would have made it more uncomfortable somehow).  But Kara felt her entire body blush as she lay in the soft light, watching, breathing the lavender perfume on her pillows and letting the music wash over her.  She did her best to relax, to let her filters of touch down.

She curled up on her side, wrapped around her long body pillow, hugging it against herself as she watched.  The woman’s body in the video was tight and perfect, her tits small and firm.  Kara watched, wide-eyed, as the woman relaxed with herself.  How effortless she seemed, almost like she wasn’t performing.  Kara studied how her hands moved easily over her own body, seeming to stop instinctively anywhere they wanted.  Little pauses to brush fingers over her lips, her nipples, the insides of her thighs.  Kara bit her lip and hugged her pillow tighter.

Her mind wandered back to the conference room, playing the events out of order:  her first taste of Cat, the moment when the hem of Cat’s dress rose enough to reveal her delicate black bikini briefs, the feel of Cat shivering and thrusting against Kara’s mouth as she quietly orgasmed, the burning stare she gave Kara when she first sat down in the chair.  She remembered vividly how soaked her own cotton boyshorts were as she left and had to ride the bus home in ruined underwear, worrying irrationally that the other people on the bus could tell.  She wrapped her thighs tighter around the pillow, squeezing its bulk against herself.  Somehow, now, the thought of all those people  _ knowing _ gave her a delicious shiver, and without even really thinking about it, she started grinding her hips gently against the pillow as she continued watching the video.

She was, underneath her sweat shorts, becoming wet again.  Absurdly, insanely wet.

She watched the woman on the screen sliding two fingers slowly into herself, and then upwards toward her clit.  Kara felt a hot shiver run up and down her back.  Her mind turned the woman into Cat, and she felt her temperature rise.  She reached down and pressed the pillow harder against herself, bunching it between her thighs in different ways until she found the pressure that gave her something more when she rubbed herself against it.  The dull heat between her legs grew as she watched the video, and she felt her breath pick up.  But it wasn’t enough.  She needed something, and this wasn’t it.

Frustrated, she tossed the pillow aside and rolled onto her back.  Her hand drifted down her belly and between her legs, where she pressed tentatively through her sweat shorts against the sensitive flesh and held her hand there for a minute, feeling the pressure.  It felt good.  She eased the pressure, and then pressed again, and felt a warm wave bloom there.  She closed her eyes for a moment and let the throbbing pulse of “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone” push itself through her blood.  She let her hand rest firmly between her legs, cupping herself, and moved her hips against it a little.  An exhale of breath.  A twitch in her sex.  It felt better than good.  It was more solid than the pillow.  It resisted, it pushed back.  It felt like what she needed.

She tilted her head to the side and looked again at the laptop, where her stand-in for Cat Grant was rubbing her clit in slow, deep circles, her head back, eyes hidden behind shades, but her mouth slightly slack in the abandon of enjoyment.   _ One day, soon, _ she thought,  _ I’m going to make her look like that. _

Her mind ping-ponged her into the movie, made her imagine herself on her stomach on that lounge chair, feeling the sun on her back, her face between Cat Grant’s legs, licking her so well that Cat was looking down at her, appreciatively, heavy sighs escaping her lips.

Kara pressed just her fingertips against her entrance, still touching herself through her shorts, just feeling a little at a time.  She watched the woman’s fingers sliding in and out of herself and she trembled.  She slid her fingertips up the crease of her sex and  up to her clit, and pushed against it, softly at first, and then harder.  She slid her fingers back down to the bottom and did it again.  She was sensitive enough now to feel the friction of the wet fabric of her cotton briefs against her flesh.  The intensity was surprising.  She felt something catch, and felt herself craving more.  The burning pleasure of this more focused touch, she needed it.   _ More, _ she thought,  _ I need more. _

Everything started moving faster now, the sense memories mixing with fantasy and the feel of her fingers on herself.  She shook.  She remembered the smell of the leather chair, the hard floor against her knees.  The woman in the video arched her back against her own touch and Kara couldn’t help mirroring it.  Her fingers pressing through the soaked cotton, rubbing herself in long strokes.  Cat’s taste on her lips, Cat’s stare through her glasses.  The ache growing in her clit, and the more she gave herself, the more she wanted.  

She became aware of wanting, in a way she never had been before.  Wanting to get on her knees for Cat again, wanting to satisfy her.  Wanting to feel more of her own fingers on her stiff, hot clit.  Wanting to finally, finally feel orgasm.  Wanting to hear Cat whispering “Very,  _ very _ good, Kiera,” as she ground herself against Kara’s tongue.  Kara’s body was swept up in wanting, wonderfully helpless in the tides of craving that tossed her about now, sending her hurtling toward something she needed.

She didn’t know why this situation with Cat Grant, of all things, filled her with wanting.  She suspected some part of her should feel disgusted with herself for wanting to submit herself to her boss’s sexual whims, for wanting to be told what to do, for getting so aroused at the thought of giving up all her control.  It wasn’t what she was supposed to want, she knew that.  

But right now, her pussy didn’t care.  It was hot, and quivering, and filling her with fever at the thought of Cat looking down at her from that chair, eyes raking over her, possessing her completely,  _ seeing her _ willing to give herself so thoroughly.  She wanted to be seen, the way Cat saw her.  Cat saw the need that was buried deep inside her.  Cat saw  _ her _ .

Her fingers raced faster against her clit, rubbing herself harder through her shorts.  She moaned quietly.  Paula Cole’s voice raised the hairs on her arms and sent ripples from the backs of her knees to nape of her neck.

__ "You make me feel like a candy apple red and horny  
You make me feel like I want to be a dumb blonde  
In a centerfold, the girl next door…”

She was thrusting her hips into her own touch, now, with purpose.  She wasn’t even watching the video anymore, she was just thinking about Cat Grant.  Cat watching her touch herself like this.  Cat watching her on her knees.  Cat seeing her surrender to the hot, sticky wanting that was spread between her legs, pushing her closer to what she needed, in time to the pulse of the music.

__ “...And I would open the door and I'd be all wet  
With my tits soaking through this tiny little t-shirt that I'd be wearing  
And you would open the door and tie me up to the bed.”

Cat Grant tying her up to the bed.  Would she like that?  Kara thought she might.  Surrendering.  Giving herself.  Giving  _ everything _ to please Cat.   _ Oh, God– _ she thought.

And then it was like falling off a cliff.  It was like jumping out of a plane.  It was like smashing into air.  The sharp spike of pleasure shot up from her fingers and through her, ripping every thought from her mind except one:  “Miss Grant!” she moaned quietly.

She curled around herself, held her fingers in place, letting herself feel the moment as long as she needed to.  Her breaths came deep and hard for a few minutes until she came down from her high.  She realized the video was still playing beside her.  The star of the show had graduated on to using a toy and Kara wasn’t ready for any of that.  She felt suddenly ill and slammed the laptop shut a little too hard.  It didn’t break, but she was quite sure it made a little annoyed sound at her.   _ What is wrong with me? _ she wondered.

Her phone buzzed.  A text from Cat:

_ Kiera please be in fifteen minutes early tomorrow morning.  I need to discuss something with you. _

She couldn’t imagine what it could be.  Right now, though, it didn’t matter.  She restarted the Paula Cole album from the beginning, shimmied out of her soaked shorts, and lay there for another half hour, imagining all the possible things that Cat could want to discuss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat takes matters into her own hands... Or rather, someone else's

Cat had asked Kara to arrive fifteen minutes early. Kara arrived thirty minutes early and began to get a jump on the morning’s tasks while she waited for Cat. Cat had already arrived and was in her office, doing something on her computer. She looked up, saw Kara, glanced at the clock, raised an eyebrow, and carried on with what she was doing.

Maybe whatever it was wasn’t important, Kara thought, or maybe she had changed her mind. Nobody was around yet except her and Cat, and one other writer at the far end of the bullpen. Fifteen minutes inched by while Kara busied herself. Finally, Cat called out to her: “Kiera, come here, please.”

Kara strode into Cat’s office and stood expectantly in front of her desk. She willed herself not to think about any of what she’d done last night. She just stood, her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for instruction, not quite meeting Cat’s eyes.

“Sit down, Kiera,” Cat said.

Kara knew she should correct her. Cat had been calling her Kiera for almost three weeks now. At this point, it felt stupid that she hadn’t corrected her. But she sat.

“Kiera,” Cat began, tapping her pen against the frames of her glasses. “You followed instruction well, last night.”

“Thank you, Miss Grant,” Kara answered shyly. Why did it make her so happy to hear that?

“That having been said... It occurs to me that, given the amount of direction you needed last night, that we are not simply dealing with a case of you never having done this for someone else before.” She gazed at Kara pointedly. “Am I correct in guessing that you have never had it done for you, either?”

Kara flushed with embarrassment. “Um … yes, you’re correct, Miss Grant.”

Cat nodded. “I don’t quite understand how you got through college without that happening at least once, even badly, but nevertheless, this needs to be fixed. You’re no good to me if you don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Kara felt her stomach swim and the edges of the room momentarily blurred a little. “Um, Miss Grant, I … what… what did you…” Was Cat offering to go down on her? Would she be able to handle it if she did?

As if reading her mind, Cat sighed, “Don’t worry, Kiera, I’m not planning on being the lucky one. I don’t want to complicate our situation.”

Kara breathed a sigh that was equal parts relief and disappointment. Part of her wanted to laugh out loud. Complicate the situation? What on earth was the situation now?? “So, then…?”

Cat looked slightly pleased with herself as she explained, “You’re going to stay late again, this evening, Kiera. I have someone in mind who I trust, who will be very discreet and who will do a very good job. You’ll enjoy yourself. That’s all you need to know right now.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are there any sexual traumas in your history that I need to be aware of? Will anything about this be a problem for you?” She asked this so matter of factly, she could have been asking about Kara’s drink preferences.

Kara shook her head. She opened her mouth to ask a question, then snapped it shut. What was the point of asking? Would it change anything? She already knew she was going to do whatever Cat Grant told her to do.

She spent the rest of her morning sweating it. Who was Cat going to bring in? Would she be attracted to them? Would that matter? Would she manage to hold it together? She at least had the experience of coming by herself last night, which helped a little. She felt at least some sense of what she might be facing and felt pretty sure she could manage not to hurt whoever it was that Cat planned to bring in.

She hadn’t quite imagined that if and when she experienced someone going down on her, that it would be going quite like this. Eliza and Jeremiah and everyone around her growing up had painted such a rosy mythos around sex; it was supposed to be amazing and special and wonderful. She watched romcoms like other girls her age and read romance novels stolen out of the bottom shelves of Eliza’s bookcases in her office. Sex was something that happened when you met the right person, and it was magical and brought your soul together with someone else’s. Alex had managed to put a few dents in that idea during her rebellious years, but still. Kara was supposed to be the angel, the good girl, the wallflower who didn't draw attention to herself.

But Cat Grant saw her. Cat Grant knew what lurked under her skin, didn't she.

 _You know_ , she thought resentfully at no-one in particular, _who says this isn’t going to be special in its own way? Why does their myth have to be my myth, I’m not even human!_

That belligerent resentment carried her through the rest of her day. The hot rumble of that internal thunder was far preferable to crawling out of her skin with sheer anxiety. So when Alex called her cell in the middle of her afternoon, Kara was a bit shorter with her than she meant to be.

“So?” was all Alex said when Kara answered.

“So what?” Kara snapped back.

“So did you?”

“Did I what?” Kara knew what Alex meant but she didn't feel like talking about it.

“Did you do what I told you to do?”

Kara huffed. “Yes.” It was her own fault for involving Alex in the first place.

“And-?”

“Alex, I really can't talk about this now. I'm at work.”

“Come on, sis. Banana nut muffin if you got your rocks off, bran muffin if you didn't.”

Kara gave an irritated sigh. “Banana nut muffin,” she snapped after a moment.

Winn gave her a strange look from behind his computer screen.

Alex whooped. “See? Was that so hard?”

“I've gotta go,” she said quickly, and hung up.

 

***********

  
Another late night at CatCo Plaza. A dead empty, silent bullpen. Cat sitting at her desk, staring at her laptop and tapping on her glasses with a pen. Kara had given up on work and was trolling the Cate Blanchett tag on tumblr, looking at picture after gorgeous picture of her. Kara had always felt there was something unearthly about her beauty. Even as a sixteen year old, Kara had had the good sense to get turned on from looking at her, even if she didn’t have the sense to realize that that was what was happening.

Finally, Cat called to her. “Kiera? Come in here, please.”

Kara walked into Cat’s office.

Cat looked up at her. “It’s a lovely, mild evening,” she began without ceremony. “We’re going to adjourn the terrace.” She gestured to the bar at the side of the room. “You can help yourself to whatever you’d like from the bar, I realize you may need to relax.”

“Oh,” Kara answered shyly, “thank you.” No point explaining that alcohol didn’t do anything for her. She walked over and looked through the assortment of bottles, trying to figure out what to have. She settled on a twenty five year old scotch. It tasted like slightly less offensive jet fuel. She tossed it back while Cat talked.

“Now, Kiera, we’ll be joined shortly by Michelle. Michelle is a former assistant of mine. She’s employed in a different part of CatCo now. She was … an excellent assistant.” Cat stalked over to where Kara stood, near the bar, and looked her up and down, slowly, and more than once, taking everything in. Kara felt herself start to get hot under Cat’s gaze. “I have high hopes for you, Kiera. It’s only fitting.”

So that was who Cat had in mind for this. She found she suddenly didn’t much care what the evening was going to involve so long as Cat kept looking at her like this, like there was nothing else in the room, like she knew all of Kara’s dirty secrets. Then Cat broke her gaze, and walked away, turning off her office lights and beckoning Kara out to the terrace. She picked up a lighter and lit the tea lights floating in the glass bowls on the two low tables.

Kara sat in one of the lounge chairs, looking at the city lights twinkling and the few pale stars visible above them. She was nervous, but oddly, not scared. Cat prowled along the railing, looking at her, and then back at the door. “Are you ready, Kiera?”

Kara nodded. Another stretch of time passed that felt endless, but probably wasn’t that long, and then she saw Cat’s face light up. She saw a woman approaching them through Cat’s darkened office, a brunette in a dark, moderately expensive suit. Cat’s old assistant had clearly moved on to middle management. The lighting levels were, she realized, intended not just for mood, but for discretion. Kara opted not to employ her super-vision; she didn’t want to recognize Michelle accidentally at Noonan’s one day.

Michelle came out onto the terrace. She and Cat greeted each other with a handshake and then a brief air kiss on each cheek. Kara didn’t ask what their relationship was now, or why she was willing to do this. She didn’t care. She just hoped that Cat wasn’t going to leave while Michelle was doing what she came here to do.

Cat turned to her. “Kiera, Michelle. Michelle, Kiera.” That little smile played around her lips again as she gave low, pleased sigh. “Kiera, make yourself available, please.”

Kara shifted and hiked up her little pleated skirt, and then slipped off her practical white cotton briefs and dropped them on the table next to the chair. They had tiny pink flowers on them. Cat’s mouth twitched when she looked at them, but she said nothing.

Michelle got on her knees in front of Kara’s chair. “Miss Grant had me taken care of too,” she whispered to Kara. “It’s almost the best perk of the job.”

“Keira, I’m going to be staying to make sure this is done properly,” Cat announced, crossing her arms across her chest and positioning herself behind Michelle. “Are you comfortable with that?”

Kara’s blood almost sang. “Yes, Miss Grant,” she whispered. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Cat, the way her gaze cast itself over the two younger women in front of her, taking ownership of them without even saying anything.

Michelle’s face, shadowy in the low glow of the tea lights, looked up at Kara to make sure she was ready. Kara nodded, and let Michelle’s smooth hands push her thighs apart. She could feel the night air on the exposed flesh of her sex, and it was strange and delicious. She pulled her skirt up further so that Cat could see everything.

And then she felt it; Michelle’s tongue made contact, a single soft sweep up from the bottom to the top, sending a shock through her. She gasped. She thought she was ready, but this was something different than rubbing herself through her shorts. This was raw, intense.

Cat didn’t speak. Her eyes settled on Kara’s face, and the flush of color that came into it. Michelle’s tongue repeated that long, easy lick, and Kara bit her lip. She wouldn’t fall apart. Couldn’t let herself, not yet. But oh, she could never have imagined this. She felt the brunette’s tongue probe her, the tip of it almost pushing into her, tasting her entrance, and then slide up to her clit, lapping softly at it. Not fast, not slow, just an even, easy pulse, wet and soft, and Kara could feel the texture of the bumps on the woman’s tongue. Kara clenched her fists and her whole body stiffened. She locked eyes with Cat, who was nodding with approval.

“Very good,” Cat murmured, “but remember, this is her first time. We don’t want it to be over too quickly, hm?”

The licking slowed, the skilled tongue sliding back down, taking long strokes that ended at her clit. Kara bit her lip harder. She couldn’t help moving herself against that mouth, that warm, soft, wet mouth. Every time she felt the pulse of that licking end its stroke at her clit, she shook and clenched her jaw, staring at Cat. God, she thought, Cat Grant was beautiful in this candlelight. The heat of her stare was making Kara feel dizzy and even wetter than she already was. _You’re mine_ , Cat’s eyes seemed to be saying.

“It’s alright, Kiera,” Cat told her quietly. “You’re allowed to make sound. Nobody’s here to hear it. I made sure of that.”

Relieved, Kara let out a long sigh, and then as the woman’s tongue made its long, slow circuit again, she moaned. It felt glorious. Cat’s eyes gleamed hungrily when she heard it, and the look made little tremors race down Kara’s spine.

“Very good, Kiera,” Cat applauded her. “Now… Take note.”

She leaned down, still looking at Kara’s face, and whispered something in Michelle’s ear. Immediately, the focus changed. The licking became more centered around her clit and she could feel Michelle’s tongue dipping into her and moving around the outside of it, torturing it a bit before plunging down, and then back up. Kara groaned. A slow smile spread across Cat’s lips. Kara couldn’t take her eyes off of those soft, red lips. She wanted it to be Cat’s mouth on her, not this stranger’s, but it almost didn’t matter. Michelle was doing exactly as Cat told her, and Cat never took her eyes off of Kara, not once, not for a moment. It was almost as good.

Cat licked her lips once, and asked softly, “Are you enjoying yourself, Kiera?”

Kara nodded, unable to speak.

“I want to hear you say it, please,” Cat said. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Kara’s voice broke when she whimpered, “Oh, God, _yes, Miss Grant_.”

Cat continued for several minutes more, watching Kara intently, occasionally leaning down and whispering direction in Michelle’s ear. With each whispered direction, the sensations between her legs changed and sent her in some other direction, to some new, hot, raw, incredible place. She flung her legs wider apart; she wanted Cat to see everything, see how Michelle’s tongue was moving against her, see how the escalating plateaus of ecstasy were making her so wet that she was soaking the seat cushion. _Look at what you’re doing to me_ , she thought. Every time she thought she was close to coming, Cat would lean down, and tell Michelle to change something, and she would find herself pushed even higher, even hotter. It was too much.

She knotted her fingers in her own hair, staring desperately at Cat. Cat tapped Michelle on the shoulder, and she stopped for a moment, and pulled back to give Cat a view of Kara’s soaking wet, spread-open pussy. Cat’s eyes raked over it, devoured it, and then moved back up to Kara’s face.

“Would you like to come now, Kiera?”

Kara’s entire body was clenched, all her muscles knotted up and craving release. “Yes, Miss Grant, please,” she moaned.

Cat nodded once, slowly. “Alright. You’ve done well, tonight. You can finish her, Michelle.”

Michelle’s lips closed around Kara’s clit, just as Kara’s had closed around Cat’s, sucking her gently and moving her tongue up and down over the exposed center of it. Kara’s head filled with exploding stars. Her eyes closed, she clutched at her hair, thrusting herself against the hot mouth that was delivering her this pleasure. Her muscles clutched, seized, and then released, and as the supernova flare of orgasm raced through her, filled her, and then overwhelmed her, she moaned again, “Oh, God, yes, Miss Grant!”

She finally collapsed, and Michelle stood up, discreetly wiping her mouth. Cat patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you again, Michelle. You can go freshen up in my washroom if you need to.”

Michelle gave Kara a little nod, touched Cat’s shoulder briefly, and then exited into Cat’s office.

Cat slinked over to where Kara sat in the chair, still splayed open, suddenly feeling naked and strange. But Cat was staring at her as hard as she was a moment ago. She relished Cat’s eyes moving down her body, down to her still buzzing, throbbing sex, and then back up. “Now, Kiera,” she asked her softly, “do you understand what’s being asked of you?”

Kara nodded silently.

“Do you think, with some practice, that you will be able to do that for me, when it’s needed?”

Kara nodded again. _Please don’t stop looking at me_ , she pleaded in her mind. She wanted to do this for Cat Grant, over and over, all the time, forever, until neither of them was able to think or speak or move.

Cat leaned close, almost close enoughj that Kara panicked and thought perhaps Cat was about to kiss her. But she merely said, “Very good, Kiera.” She stood up. “Take your time getting yourself together. I have to leave. Make sure to tidy up before you leave.”


	5. Chapter 5

Now that she knew what it was supposed to feel like, Kara found exponentially greater joy in her job. She studied, as she would study anything else, thoroughly, with every spare second she had, drawing from as many different sources as possible. She read books, watched a variety of porn videos, instructional videos, read sex articles in magazines like GENRE and Slash. She took it all in, stitched it together with her experience on the terrace that night, and improved herself each and every day.

And, at night in bed, she touched herself a lot. A lot. Especially on nights when she’d had to give Miss Grant “extra service.”

Everyone around her felt sorry for her. “All those late nights,” they’d say. “She’s so demanding,” they’d say. Every order Cat would bark, Kara would obey without question, without hesitation or delay. No matter how insane or outlandish. _Kiera, I need a Kosher salmon lunch and a bottle of Italian wine, and yes I know they’re to be found at opposite ends of town, be back in twenty minutes. Kiera, get Angela Merkel on the phone, yes I know she’s on holiday in an undisclosed location in Greece, you have ten minutes_. And Kara would give her little cheerful, humble nod and say, “Yes, Miss Grant.” “How do you put up with it?” people would ask. And Kara would smile and assure them it really wasn’t so bad.

Every time Cat summoned her for “overtime,” she felt a flush from her knees to her throat. It wasn’t a daily thing, at least not at first. It started as maybe once a week, then twice, then twice plus maybe once on the weekend. But Kara was getting better at it, she knew she was. She was hearing Cat making sounds that she hadn’t before. And it was getting so she knew when Cat needed it the minute she walked in in the morning. There was a particular tightness in her hips, in the way she moved, a certain clench to her jaw when she spoke… and the way she smelled... Kara began to love that smell, that extra sharpness to her perfume on those days, Cat’s expensive fragrance laced with whatever the pheromones were that said she needed Kara to go the extra mile that evening.

Kara couldn’t help tipping her hand, showing Cat that she knew what was needed. Usually somewhere around lunchtime, while setting Cat’s lettuce wrap down carefully on the desk, she’d murmur very softly, “I’ve cleared my schedule for this evening, Miss Grant, in case you need me to stay after hours.” She finished with a shy little smile.

The first time, Cat had looked startled, almost angry. Every time after that, she simply kept her gaze fixed on whatever was in front of her, and replied, “Thank you, Kiera.” But Kara heard her heart skip a beat, and he knew that Cat’s anticipation had spiked.

It wasn’t long until one day, when Cat seemed particularly wound up, and Kara gave her the soft, teasing assurance that she could stay late, Cat snapped at her. “Kiera,” she demanded, “it is one-thirty in the afternoon, why have you already assumed I am going to ask you to stay late?”

Kara gave her a slightly startled look, then shrugged. “You aren’t?”

Cat abruptly stood up. “No. I am not. Follow me.” And she waved impatiently for Kara to follow her.

She trailed Cat back into her private washroom in back of her office, and watched as Cat closed the door with a cool, quiet click, and then leaned back against the white ceramic of the sink, resting her hands behind her. “Well?” she demanded.

Kara was confused. “W-well, what?”

Cat pursed her lips. “I don’t know how you know, Kiera,” she whispered, her voice so low and fierce it made Kara shake a little, “but you know. You _always_ know.” She stood, appraising Kara for a moment before continuing. “So you _must_ know now, hmm? You’re not staying late tonight, Kiera, because I’m not waiting.”

Her gaze pressed into Kara’s head, into the back of it, left two burning bright marks on the inside of her skull. She could hear Cat’s heart beating, could smell the need on her, thick and heavy in the small space. Cat had never asked her to do it during work hours, only after. She trembled, feeling the heat wash over her skin, that sick, heady feeling she got before she crossed another line that she didn’t know was a line until she was standing in front of it. And this, this was a line. During office hours, when they could be heard? Seen? Found out? Oh, _this_ was a line. She thrilled a little at the prospect of being caught, of being seen, picturing Winn and James and anybody and everybody in that office who wanted to be in Cat Grant’s good graces, standing outside the door, listening to Kara reducing her to muffled curses and heavy breathing. And then she sank to her knees on the tile.

So that was the beginning of the afternoon sessions, as Kara referred to them in her head. Those days when she knew Cat needed her services badly. She wouldn’t even ask, she’d just go wait for her in the private washroom, discreetly. Cat wouldn’t even say anything sometimes, she’d just lean back against the sink and put a hand on Kara’s shoulder, pushing her to her knees. Cat was working harder these days to keep herself from breathing too loudly, digging her fingers into Kara’s shoulders while she worked. There were fewer late nights now.

Kara knew this was not the human myth of what she was supposed to want, but she didn’t care. She came to work every day, her body on fire, her mouth wanting the taste of Cat. And often getting it.

And then.

And then, that Saturday afternoon, Kara got the call. Cat needed some layouts off of her desk in her office and of course, didn’t care that she was interrupting her trusted assistant’s Saturday afternoon demanding that she bring them to her penthouse.

And Kara just smiled sheepishly as Alex rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you put up with this,” she grumbled at her, but Kara shrugged.

“It’s really okay, Alex,” she assured her happily. “I like being able to help Miss Grant out.”

She arrived at Cat’s penthouse faster than she should have. While she didn’t fly there –she hadn’t done that in ages– she took advantage of a few well-timed bursts of speed to catch the right buses, the right elevators. She arrived, looking sunny and windblown, at Cat’s door.

Cat was dressed casually, in jeans and a Brooks Brothers button-down in that deep green that Kara loved on her because it brought out her eyes. The sleeves were rolled up, the top two buttons undone. Lingerie threatened to peek out, but didn’t. She was barefoot, and her blonde hair looked effortless; one of the charms of a four hundred dollar haircut, Kara supposed, was that you could roll out of bed and do nothing to it and still look like a fashion magazine cover.

But then, Cat Grant always looked like a fashion magazine cover.

Cat had that look to her. She had that slightly elevated heartbeat. She had that stance, hip jutted to one side, head tilted, one hand idly playing near her throat where one of her large, chunky necklaces would normally be. Kara’s eye caught on that hand, how the fingers fluttered near the pulse of the veins in her neck. Most importantly, she had that scent. Kara knew why Cat had really sent for her.

“You’re a mess,” Cat observed flatly after surveying her for a moment.

“I was at the park,” Kara answered, smiling her small, humble smile. “It was windy.”

Cat looked at her for a beat longer, then stood aside. “Well, come in,” she commanded irritably.

Kara stepped inside. She liked Cat’s place. It was big, airy, modern, sunny, and absurdly comfortable no matter the time of day. “Where’s Carter?”

“With his father. They’re ice golfing in Greenland for spring break.”

That sealed it. Cat had no other reason to ask her here than wanting her to do the part of the job that had become her favorite. Kara handed her the layouts with an innocent smile. “Here are the layouts, Miss Grant. Is there … anything else I can do for you while I’m here?” Her pulse was already picking up.

Cat sauntered into the living room, glancing over her shoulder. “Yes, why don’t you come with me?”

Kara followed, her heartbeat picking up a little to match the pace of Cat’s.

Cat undid her jeans, pushed them down around her ankles, and settled comfortably onto the couch. She looked up at Kara with a raised eyebrow. She wasn’t wearing underwear today.

Kara’s heart stopped for a moment. She knelt down between Cat’s legs. She never touched Cat when she went down on her, it was an unspoken rule; Cat merely pulled her underwear aside and Kara did her work. But this time, she couldn’t resist. She brushed her fingers down Cat’s hipbone, that expanse of skin that she’d never seen, despite having been between her legs so many times. Cat drew a short breath at the impetuousness of that light, wondering little touch, and her eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, Kara tilted her head forward and began to kiss between Cat’s legs, and whatever Cat was going to say evaporated in her mouth.

Kara could feel Cat’s hunger, stronger than usual. She could taste it, could feel it in the way Cat was grinding herself against her mouth. As in everything else, Kara responded to Cat’s every need, every breath, adjusting her energy to match. She became more aggressive, devouring her boss’s pussy with a level of enthusiasm that rapidly approached abandon. Her tongue dug in, and she was dizzied with the smell, with the way Cat’s taste was flooding her mouth. Cat was moaning. Oh, God, she was moaning. Not just breathing heavily, but out loud moaning. Kara found herself moaning in response, felt her own arousal growing, her own pussy getting wetter. She got hot every time she did this, but this was something new.

Cat’s fingers tangled in Kara’s hairhear. She could feel Cat getting close. She could feel her own body mirroring Cat’s responses. Cat’s hands, gripping her hair and pulling her head harder between her legs. Kara sucked harder. Cat stiffened against her, fucking herself on Kara’s mouth. They both groaned.

Impulsively, Kara reached up and slipped her fingers into Cat, and Cat gasped. “God, Kara, fuck,” she moaned. And then she came, hard.

Kara felt Cat tighten around her fingers, felt the tremors go through Cat’s body, but it was the “God, Kara, fuck!” that pushed her over the edge. _She said my name_ , she thought. _She said fuck_ , she thought. Kara didn’t even know why that was so scorchingly hot, but it was. And with her face buried between Cat’s thighs, and her fingers buried inside Cat, Kara felt herself slip over the edge too, mirroring Cat’s orgasm, moaning with delicious, aching ecstasy even as she continued to lick her and push her fingers in and out. “Oh God, Miss Grant,” she moaned when she pulled back for a moment.

Cat froze. She looked down at Kara. Her face clouded over. “Hands off,” she said darkly.

Kara withdrew her hands and looked up at Cat. She knew she wasn’t supposed to touch her but she couldn’t help it. She hoped she wasn’t in trouble.

But Cat, as it turned out, wasn’t as concerned about that as she was about something else. “Did you just come?”

Kara flushed, nodding silently.

Cat sighed. “This is not about you, Kiera,” she scolded.

Kara’s eyes went wide. “I couldn’t help it,” she pleaded. “Please don’t be angry at me, Miss Grant.”

“Going down on me is not supposed to be a perk, Kiera. This is supposed to be something that you tolerate because you appreciate the career opportunity it offers you.”

Kara bit her lip. “I couldn’t help it,” she whispered. She wouldn’t feel ashamed of it, damn it. She wouldn’t. “You just… you taste so good, and you sound so good, and … I was… you seemed to be enjoying it more than usual and … I like it when you enjoy it.”

“Apparently,” Cat snapped. She was glaring at Kara, but Kara wouldn’t be pushed into feeling badly.

“It… it doesn’t take anything away from you, Miss Grant. It doesn’t take away from your power. If anything, I…”

Cat put a finger on Kara’s lips. “Don’t. Don’t complicate this any more than you already have, Kiera.”

Kara pulled Cat’s hand away. “It’s not, Miss Grant. I just… I just want to do everything that you want. And I want to be the best at it.”

Cat was staring at her. “Get up,” she ordered after a moment.

“Miss Grant, you … you don’t understand, I love doing this. And I love doing everything else for you. I just want to … devote myself to something…”

Cat stood up, jeans still around her ankles. “Shut up!” she snapped. She had a wild spark to her eyes, lips trembling, nostrils flaring.

Kara’s mouth snapped shut. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but the only thing she was afraid of was Cat telling her she that sex was no longer part of her job.

“You…” Cat began, shaking a finger in Kara’s face. “What do you think this is? Do you think I’m your girlfriend or something?”

“No!” Kara cried, horrified. “No, not at all!”

“Because I’m not!”

“I know!” Kara protested. “I never thought anything else!”

“I am still your boss!”

“I know!”

“Then what do you think this is?”

“I don’t know!” Kara shouted, trying not to go to pieces. “I just… I like my job. I want to be good at it. All of it.” Her lip trembled a little, but she wouldn’t cry. Cat had rules about that, too. “You… you wanted my complete devotion to the job, and that’s what I’m giving you!”

Cat stepped further into Kara’s space. “So you’re just doing whatever I say.”

Kara nodded.

“And you like doing whatever I say.”

Kara nodded again. “You… you can do whatever you want with me,” she whispered. “I can handle it, I promise you.”

Without a word, Cat’s hand went under Kara’s skirt and into her underwear. She grunted with surprise when she discovered how wet Kara actually was. Kara gasped as Cat’s fingers slid over her clit and then pushed into her. Not gently, not carefully, just pushing in, roughly, challenging her, to see what she would do. Kara bit her lip again. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Cat withdrew her hand and Kara moaned again. Cat held up her wet fingers. “Clean this off,” she demanded.

Kara lowered her head and started licking the taste of herself off of Cat’s fingers. “Please, Miss Grant,” she whispered as she licked, “I love this job, please don’t take it away from me.”

Cat seemed momentarily caught in watching Kara’s lips and tongue on her fingers. She shook her head, kicked out of her pants, and walked off down the hall toward a door that had a bit of late afternoon light spilling from it. She turned around and looked squarely at Kara. “Follow me.”

Kara started to walk towards her.

“Uh-uh,” Cat said. “Not like that.”

Kara was confused.

“Take everything off.”

Kara stared at her, startled. “Wh-what?”

Cat stalked back over to her and glared up at her. “Take. Everything. Off.” And for emphasis, she reached up and yanked Kara’s shirt open, popping several buttons in the process. They went clattering to the floor. She pushed Kara up against the wall, and Kara was surprised at how much strength was coiled in that tiny little body. “Let’s see how good you really are at doing everything I tell you.”

Kara obediently slipped the shirt off over head, followed by the bra, and then let her skirt and underwear fall to the floor, and stepped out of them. She stood looking expectantly at Cat, whose eyes smoldered as she took in the sight of Kara’s naked body. Kara hadn’t been naked with anyone in a long time, and she was trembling with excitement and nerves. She wanted to be what Cat wanted. She couldn’t read Cat’s face except that she was fired-up and itching to prove something. Kara didn’t understand what she had to prove. She was Cat Grant. She was already something. Kara would be happy just to be something to her.

Cat, still wearing nothing except her button down shirt, knotted rough fingers in Kara’s hair and growled against her neck, “For Christ’s sake! Don’t you have limits?”

Kara’s eyes fell closed and she felt Cat pressing up against her. “Not … not with you, Miss Grant,” she answered weakly. It was true. Cat could tell her to do just about anything and she’d do it.

Cat shoved her against the wall and gave her tits a rough squeeze. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want to give you what you want. I want to be useful to you.” Her eyes still closed, she could feel Cat’s hot breath against the side of her neck. “Please…” she whispered. “...Use me.”

“Goddamnit,” Cat muttered. She gripped both of Kara’s shoulders and spun her around, shoving her into the bedroom. “Get on that bed, Kiera. Flat on your back. No more talking.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things turn a bit rough.

Cat pushed past Kara into the bedroom and perched herself on the edge of the bed. She patted the mattress. “Chop chop, let’s go.” She stared Kara down, her eyes burning with something like anger, something like hunger. Kara started toward the bed, but Cat put up a hand. “Not like that,” she snapped.

Kara halted.

“Crawl to me,” Cat decided after what felt like an eternity of looking at her.

Kara’s skin prickled with feelings she couldn’t name. Cat wanted to test her limits. Good. Let her test them. Kara would show her that she had no bottom to her want, and Cat would let her stay. She sank to the floor and crawled slowly across to the bed, staring back at Cat with wide eyes, wanting her to see this for what it was. She stopped at Cat’s feet and waited, looking up at her. She wanted to press her face between Cat’s thighs again, but she waited to be told. Cat needed someone who could do that.

Cat’s eyes narrowed. “Interesting,” she breathed quietly. She stood. Kara gazed up the columns of Cat’s bare thighs that disappeared under the shadows of her shirttails. Cat pointed to the bed. “On the bed, now. Hands and knees.”

Kara slowly climbed up onto the bed. She could feel the air currents in the room breathing against her skin. She didn’t need to play those little mind games with herself to open her senses; they were opened wide, and she had to struggle to keep them from being overwhelmed. Cat’s breathing strained underneath the controlled clip of her voice. She leaned down, her face very close to Kara’s. “I don’t believe you, Kiera,” she whispered. “What do you really want from me?”

Kara swallowed hard. “I told you,” she whispered. “I just want to belong to you. I’ll do everything you want. I can take anything. You can’t hurt me, not even if you were trying.”

Cat’s jaw tightened. Did she perceive Kara’s words as a challenge? Cat stalked around to the other side of the bed, seeming as if she was inspecting Kara’s naked body from every angle. Kara shivered. _She’s looking at me,_ she thought, thrilled, and it was all her mind could process.

Cat dragged one manicured fingernail down Kara’s back. Not hard enough to hurt, but not gentle either. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” Kara answered honestly.

Cat climbed onto the bed behind Kara, her front pressed against Kara’s ass. She felt Cat's nails, all of them, dig into her shoulder blades, and drag down her back, harder this time. Hard enough that if Kara’s skin were like anyone else’s, it would have left marks. “And that?”

“You can do it harder if you want.”

She felt Cat give a long, quiet exhale and press herself harder against her ass. She felt those nails in her shoulders again, raking down her back, this time hard enough to draw blood in a human. But in Kara’s body, it was just pressure, it was just stimulation, and _Oh, God, she’s touching me_. She bit back a moan, but Cat heard it.

“You’re still lying to me,” Cat growled. “This is still about you and you won’t admit it.” Cat was grinding against Kara’s ass now, gripping it with one hand and digging her nails in. And then she startled Kara by delivering a sudden, open-palmed slap to it.

Kara gasped, mostly with surprise, but again, her heart and her body cried, _Oh God, she’s touching me._

“You want this, don’t you.” Cat’s voice was smoky, sparking, raspy with hunger and agitation.

“I don’t know what the right answer is,” Kara moaned.

Cat slapped her ass again, still grinding against her. “Don’t lie to me,” she growled again, but her voice was growing breathless. “The only right answer is the truth.”

Kara’s hips began responding to the press of Cat’s, and she felt Cat’s breathing get heavier. “The truth is I want to keep hearing your voice sound like that.” Another slap, and Kara moaned this time, and kept grinding back against Cat’s movements, which were growing more insistent. “I want to do whatever I have to do to keep making you sound like that.”

Cat slapped her ass again, and stopped moving. “I could get myself off just rubbing up on this hard, young ass of yours all day, you know that?” she panted.

Kara moaned, and felt herself get wetter. “Then do it,” she breathed. “Use it. Take what you need. Please, I want you to.”

Cat laid a hard slap against her once more, that cracked loudly in the silent room. “But that’s not all you want, is it. Stop lying.”

Kara’s face was buried in the down comforter, breathing its smell, the dense, expensive cotton and the flat, distinctively neutral scent of the feathers within it. And it smelled of Cat… her perfume, her tears … she could tell that Cat had touched herself on this comforter, and more than once. “I’m not lying,” she pleaded, “please….” She collapsed her elbows and tilted her weight forward onto them.

She felt Cat pull away from her and immediately, desperately, wanted her to come back. And oh, did she.  
`   
Kara’s ass was in the air, and her soft pussy open for Cat’s exploration, and she felt Cat’s finger dip slowly into her wetness; she didn’t push inside the way she did just a few moments ago in the living room. She lingered at Kara’s entrance, and then slid down to touch Kara’s thumping clit. It was the same kind of raw, hot pleasure that she’d gotten on the terrace. But it was different, more somehow, because it was coming from Cat. Kara groaned.

“Do you want this?” Cat whispered, her voice huskier.

“Yes,” Kara moaned.

Cat’s finger slid inside her, and Kara whimpered a little. She felt herself open and give when Cat slid into her, and felt herself flood again. Cat pressed a second finger into her and pumped in and then out, just once. She stopped. “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” Kara moaned again.

She felt Cat slowly pump in and out of her a few more times, felt herself quiver and clutch at her fingers. When the fingers pulled away, Kara tried to choke back a little whine in her throat.

Cat got up and walked over to the nightstand. She opened the drawer and pulled out a strap-on. She was silent, and Kara watched her, shaking where she sat, still on her hands on knees, still tilted forward, waiting for her. She watched Cat’s deliberate movements, securing the straps around her hips until the clear latex cock was protruding from her hips, looking somehow frightening and yet causing an earthquake-magnitude tug of longing in Kara’s belly. Cat disappeared behind her again, and she trembled with anticipation.

The mattress shifted as Cat came up behind her again and positioned herself. Kara could feel the press of the toy against the back of her thigh. She felt Cat take it, tease the tip of it along the length of her. She pressed it gently against Kara’s entrance and said quietly, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” Kara sighed helplessly.

“I’m not gentle,” Cat warned her. “I’m going to fuck you hard. Do you want that?”

“Yes, please,” Kara begged. She suddenly needed to feel what Cat promised her.

She gasped anew as Cat’s weight came forward against her and the cock slid into her, filling her perfectly, easily. She felt her insides adjust to its presence, felt them clutch around it, wanting to feel how Cat was going to take her with it. It was already like nothing else she’d ever felt.

“Then say it,” Cat ordered. “Admit that that’s what you want. Or I’m not going to give it to you.”

Kara bit her lip. Her face flushed. She never spoke this way out loud, or indeed, even in her head. But Miss Grant had told her to do something and she would do it. “Please, Miss Grant…”

Cat goaded her through her hesitation with one gentle little thrust that made Kara’s insides quiver. “Don’t be shy or I’m not going to do it. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me, Miss Grant. Please,” she said in a near whisper.

Cat’s hips began to move slowly, and Kara groaned at feeling the bulk of the thing moving in and out of her. “Hard?” Cat persisted.

“Yes, hard,” Kara panted. It was a different kind of pleasure, this, a dense, urgent pressure, a burning in her belly, something searing that twisted around her guts, her bones, spreading into her blood like a fever. “As hard as you want. As hard as you can.”

Cat’s fingers gripped Kara’s hips, and she began to move harder, hitting her in long, aggressive strokes. “Is this what you want, Kara?” she demanded as the bed shook and the two of them shook along with it.

“Yes!” Kara cried, gripping the comforter and holding on, clutching at nothing, feeling as though she were dying. The sound of their bodies striking one another filled her ears, and a short, deliciously anguished sigh was pushed out of her body with every stroke of Cat’s cock.

“Don’t lie to me again, do you understand me?” Cat continued to fuck her, her thrusts growing deeper, shorter, harder.

“I won’t, Miss Grant,” Kara moaned. She was filled to brimming with Cat’s aggressive, hard, angry sex and she loved it. Cat’s nails on her skin, Cat’s breath on her back, Cat’s cock inside her, claiming her, taking her. She surrendered herself completely to it because she had wanted this for longer than she cared to admit.

“Tell me again,” Cat panted against her back. “What. Do. You. Want.”

How could she put it into words? She wanted to belong to Cat. She wanted to give herself completely to her. She wanted to please her, she wanted to serve her, she wanted to be whatever Cat wanted. And yes, God yes, she wanted Cat to fuck her. But all of it was pressing inside her and building with Cat’s hard, insistent fucking and all she could say was, “You, Miss Grant. I want _you_. I want _you_.”

She didn’t know how many times she said it as she came, but she said it over and over. Cat’s rough thrusting took her to orgasm, and then pushed past it. “Miss Grant, I don’t know if I can take any more…” she moaned as Cat continued to fuck her dripping, hypersensitive pussy.

But the stimulation of taking her was getting Cat off too, and she wasn’t done. “You said you could take whatever I give, Kara, were you lying to me again?”

And Kara went silent, and closed her eyes, and rocked herself back against Cat’s thrusting. It was so much, almost too much, but God… she felt a sudden heat well up in her and she came again, this time just in time to join Cat. Cat stopped, the cock buried deep inside Kara, and she held on, stiff and shaking for a moment, before collapsing forward onto Kara’s back. Her heavy, thick breaths hit Kara’s skin and each one felt like it was leaving a mark. A mark that said Kara was hers.

Kara felt an ache as Cat pulled out the toy and tossed it to the side. She didn’t want it to be over. “Can I lie down, Miss Grant?”

Cat rolled off of her and onto her back, her head turned to assess Kara with some amusement in her face. “Would you stay like that if I said no?” she inquired casually.

“Come on, Miss Grant. You know I would. But I’d like to lie down.”

Cat waved dismissively. “Please, I’m not a monster, lie down.” She held up a finger. “But -- no cuddling please, I’m still not your girlfriend.”

Kara allowed her muscles to turn to liquid and she stretched out on her stomach. She folded her arms underneath her chin and turned to look at Cat. She smiled. “I didn’t think you were.”

“This changes nothing,” Cat added.

“Of course.” Kara continued smiling at her.

“I’m still your boss.”

Kara laughed. “I didn’t think any differently. You’re Cat Grant. I’m not harboring any delusions that I’m worthy of being something more than your assistant. But… I do want to be the best one you’ve ever had or ever will have.”

Cat hmphed. “Lofty ambitions.”

“But how am I doing?” Kara persisted.

Cat’s mouth twitched. “Not bad,” she admitted.

A long silence fell as they lay in the thin light of late afternoon, and Kara watched the dust motes float around. “So everything will be normal on Monday, then, right?”

“Of course,” Cat answered, sounding tired, but a little snappish. “Nothing changes, Kiera. Nothing.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat questions whether she made the right decision in going to the next level with Kara.

Monday came. Then Tuesday. Wednesday. But the request to stay late never came.

Kara was confused. Cat’s eyes still picked her apart the same way. She still gave her the occasional lingering stare that made Kara feel owned, in that delicious way. Kara still came to work every day with her body on fire, dying to give Cat everything she needed. She couldn’t help thinking of how it felt to be on her hands and knees with Cat taking her, thrusting inside her, Cat’s breathing echoing loud in her stripped-bare senses.

Her smoky, dark, husky voice demanding, _Is this what you want?_

It was. She began to wonder if she would ever have it again.

Cat came to work at the end of the week, her body language and her scent and all those telltale signs screaming that she needed Kara to take care of her. Kara set Cat’s lunch on the desk and softly asked if she was going to need her to stay late.

“No,” was all Cat said, curt and final.

Kara left, head down, trying not to look as devastated as she felt. Why was Cat punishing her? She didn’t understand. All she wanted was to be useful.

Well, all she wanted was to be used, really. There was that. She wanted Cat to fuck her again. Wanted to feel her pounding away, as hard as she wanted, wanted the little thrill in her chest, the little swell of pride she got at knowing she could take anything Cat could give. That no matter how much anger and tension Cat needed to release onto Kara’s body, that Kara could handle it. No-one could give Cat Grant that. No-one but Kara Danvers.

She hadn’t realized how, in the course of a few months, going down on Cat had become something that she needed and craved so much that it left her feeling empty when it wasn’t asked of her. How ironic, she thought, that she had been so shocked, so scandalized when Cat first put it to her. How scared she’d been. And now she could hardly think of anything else.

She rebuffed her friends’ Friday evening invite to go down to Chinatown for potstickers. Instead, after saying goodnight to Cat, who was coolly dismissive despite Kara knowing she needed something, she trudged down to Noonan’s for a cocktail that would do nothing. But the ritual of it was still oddly comforting, so she ordered something red and splashy with a cherry and a little umbrella in it, and sipped away at it, sitting alone at the bar, thinking about Cat.

It was populated but not as busy as a normal Friday happy hour. There were certainly other available barstools besides the one next to her, but the grey-suited brunette came in and parked beside her. Kara didn’t look up. She wasn’t interested in small talk with a stranger.

Only it wasn’t a stranger. Not exactly. The perfume and the silhouette of the haircut that she saw out of the corner of her eye were familiar.

“I know that look,” the woman said sympathetically.

It was Michelle. “Are we supposed to be talking to each other?” Kara wondered.

Michelle chuckled a little. “The CatCo police aren’t going to descend on ziplines and drag us away.” She heard the stool’s legs scrape against the floor as Michelle pulled a little closer to the bar and ordered a martini. _Just like Cat,_ Kara thought briefly. She didn’t say anything else though, and waited for Michelle to say whatever she was going to say. “Anyway, I think I know what you’re going through right now. I know that look.”

“What look is that?” Kara asked despondently, stirring at her drink with a swizzle stick. She still didn’t look up at Michelle. She felt it would be breaking some sort of unspoken accord.

“You got attached. You couldn’t help it. And now she’s pushing you away.”

Kara froze. She absorbed Michelle’s words for a moment.

“You don’t need to tell me. I went through the same thing.”

Kara hesitated. “How… how long ago?”

Michelle gave her a warm chuckle. “Oh, almost ten years now,” she sighed.

“And you still work for CatCo?”

“Yes. Once she realized I was getting attached, she pushed me away. And then, not too long after, she promoted me. It didn’t happen to me as fast as you, I guess it took me about two years to get … attached. I wasn’t even into women when I took the job, but Cat Grant is … bigger than life.” She sipped at her martini. “But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.” Like Kara, Michelle kept her eyes forward.

Kara huffed, a bitter little sound to go with the pained smile on her face. “So. You took the promotion and that was the end of that?”

“Yes. You haven’t been with her long, so it’s going to be a little while before she can promote you. But she’s pushing you away, and it hurts. So, it’s going to be hard for a little while.”

Kara bit her lip. She had a million questions she didn’t want to ask. “And what about you two now?”

“What about us?” Michelle sipped her drink again and set it down on the bar. “I’m an SVP in Marketing. I can’t say she and I are friends, exactly, but... she continues to look out for my career. She cares, in her way. And once in awhile, she asks me to… take care of someone.”

Kara’s stomach twisted. How could she stand that? Maybe the hurt faded over time, Kara thought, or maybe Michelle’s attachment was different than her own. Maybe. But Kara couldn’t imagine working in some other part of CatCo, and just being randomly summoned to go break in some new assistant of Cat’s. She would do it if she was asked, she already knew that, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

“I mean,” Michelle went on, sensing Kara’s discomfort at this, “it’s a little weird, I can’t lie. Thank God she never fucked me or it’d be a lot harder.”

Kara’s heart stopped. Two years, and Cat had never done that with Michelle? It suddenly came into focus, why Cat was pushing her away like this. She had crossed one of her own lines. Kara suddenly smiled a little. She’d gotten to Cat. She knew that now. This changed everything. She finished the rest of her drink and sighed. She felt heavy, but hopeful. “Thanks for the talk, Michelle. It really helped me.” She stood up. “Have a great weekend.”

  
**********************

  
Kara marched back into the CatCo building. She knew Cat would still be there. It wasn’t that late and Friday night meant very little to Cat. Kara was twitching impatiently in the elevator all the way up, percolating and not even knowing what she was going to say or do.

The bullpen was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers. Cat was sitting on the couch in her office, poring over something. Kara walked in, feeling reckless, not caring. She marched in, closed the glass door behind her, and planted herself in front of Cat. Cat didn’t look up. “Kiera, whatever it is you want, I’m sure you can leave the door open.”

“I don’t think so,” Kara answered breathlessly. “Not this.”

Cat gave her a skeptical glance, and then continued reading. “So? What?”

Kara bit her lip. Her hands were shaking but she pressed forward anyway. “I want you to stop pushing me away, Miss Grant. I know that… that you need what I do for you. You said one time that you didn’t know how I know when you need it?” She paused as Cat looked up again, for longer this time, then back down at the papers in front of her. She plunged onward. “I know because of … of everything. The way you walk, the way your… your hips don’t swing as much. The way your jaw gets tight and your voice has a little more edge to it. You eat more M&Ms. And...the way… the way you smell.” She could smell it even now, that sharpness in Cat’s perfume that spelled need. It wafted up to her from where Cat sat on the couch and made her stomach flutter. Her voice caught in her throat. “I love the way the smell of your perfume changes when you need my mouth, Miss Grant. It smells so strong, I can hardly focus on anything else.” Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper.

Cat glared up at her, saying nothing for a long moment. Kara could hear the spike in her heartbeat. “What do you think you’re doing? Our arrangement is not. About. You. How many times to do I need to explain this? I tell you when I need something. The end.”

“But I know you need it,” Kara persisted wantonly. “I can tell. You need it right now, even though you sit there giving me that look like you want to murder me. And you’re pushing me away because you … you don’t know what to do with me.”

Cat stood up, bringing to bear every inch of her tiny frame, staring at Kara with an electricity that crackled in the room. “If I’m pushing you away, Kiera, it’s because you don’t have limits. It’s because you want more than what I can give you.”

“No!” Kara shot back, the firmness in her voice suddenly surprising her. “I want exactly, _exactly_ this! Don’t you understand?”

Cat looked taken aback.

“I want to serve you. Just like I do now. I want to be there to satisfy you on every level, in every way. I want you to possess me, just like you do, and use me, just like you do. Tell me what to do, just like you do.” Her chest was heaving now but she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “I know you wanted to fuck me, Miss Grant, so you took what you wanted, and I liked being what you wanted. I know you liked fucking me because I felt you come. I know you needed it. Just let me be what you need.” She was trembling. “Please.”

Cat’s hand drifted up to her throat and fiddled with her chunky necklace as she stood there, shellshocked, absorbing everything Kara had just said to her.

“Call Seamus and tell him to bring the car around.”

  
*******

  
As they climbed into the car, Cat said to Seamus, “Turano Beach.” They climbed in.

“The beach?” Kara queried.

“It’s far, and there’s traffic.” Cat said nothing more. The first few moments they spent staring at each other in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Cat spoke. “I’ve never encountered anyone like you before, do you know that?”

Kara shook her head. This was of course true in ways Cat couldn't even guess.

“So…” she mused slowly, her eyes raking over Kara and making her feel naked already, “...anything I want to do to you is fine?”

Kara nodded. “I’m yours. Or I want to be.”

“I’m not in love with you, you do understand that?” Cat pressed carefully.

Kara shrugged. “Who’s to say what that even means? I’m not in love with you, either, you know. I just want to do those things that you like.”

“Unbutton your shirt,” Cat commanded as they rolled onto the freeway. The lights slid by like thick liquid, moving in slow motion on the other side of the tinted window.

Kara’s heart leapt. She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her simple white bra underneath.

“Take it off. The bra, too.”

Kara obeyed. Cat’s gaze seemed to burn itself into her skin. Cat bit her lip and stared at Kara’s pert, round tits and their erect nipples. “It’s yours, Miss Grant,” she whispered.

Cat reached out and took one of them in hand. She squeezed, hard. Kara drew a little breath but didn’t flinch. “Mine,” Cat murmured, rubbing her thumb over the nipple and sending little sparks up Kara’s back. “Hmmm.” Her eyes moved down the Kara’s skirt. She tugged at the hem. “Lift this up.”

Cat released her hold on Kara’s breasts, and Kara leaned back, and lifted her skirt. She wanted to shimmy out of her underwear, but she waited an agonizing moment until Cat ordered her to do it. She remained on the seat opposite her, skirt up around her waist, knees apart, her pink cotton briefs in a heap on the seat between them. Cat picked them up and inspected them. “God,” she observed. “You’re already wet.”

Kara nodded. Cat leaned forward and Kara trembled as she felt Cat’s touch, probing and gently pushing her bared sex. She bit her lip and couldn’t help moving herself against Cat’s fingers. She felt one, and then two fingers slide inside her and gave a deep exhale.

“This is mine, too?” Cat inquired.

Kara nodded. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t a question.” Cat began gently moving her fingers in and out. “This is mine.”

“Yes, it’s yours,” Kara breathed.

Cat smiled hungrily and then pulled her fingers out. “Did you like that?”

Kara nodded enthusiastically.

Cat took a moment to lick the taste of Kara off her fingers, looking her dead in the eye as she did. Kara could barely breathe as she watched.

“Do you touch yourself?” Cat demanded.

Kara nodded.

“What do you think about when you do it?”

Kara flushed a little. “You.”

“What specifically, though?” Cat wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. Of course.

“Well, lately...it’s been about… what you did to me on Sunday.”

Cat smiled. “You mean, me fucking you.”

Kara flushed even redder. “Yes.”

Cat tilted her head and looked at her, thinking for a moment. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think about that.”

Kara’s breathing was thick and shaky, but she brought her hands down, spread herself open with one hand, and began stroking herself with the other, a slow, up and down motion that began at the very bottom and moved up slowly, lingering at the top. Cat licked her lips and watched. Kara loved being watched, she knew that about herself now. She loved knowing that here was someone who knew what perversion bubbled under her surface and wasn’t scared of it. More than that, she enjoyed it. She rubbed herself slowly, relishing every moment of Cat’s stare as she did it, feeling the arousal growing and her clit getting stiffer and more sensitive.

“You said ‘lately,’” Cat realized after a moment. “What was it before that?”

“Um… sometimes going down on you.”

Cat was intrigued now. “And the other times?”

“I liked imagining you… doing to yourself what I’m doing now,” Kara admitted.

Cat chuckled. “Be a good girl and get yourself off for me, and we’ll see about letting you see that for real.”

Kara’s heart almost burst. She moaned out loud at the thought of it. She dragged some wetness up to her clit and began to make circles around it.

“Can you do that?” Cat pressed.

Kara nodded.

“You know,” Cat went on, a fierce light coming into her eyes, “people would say that this is not healthy, what we’re doing. That I should not be able to just… have you like this. Have you do whatever I want. That the power imbalance here is a little sick. What do you think of that?”

Kara kept rubbing herself, teasing her clit with three fingers, playing with it, stroking it with a deep, easy pressure, loving the way Cat’s eyes roamed all over her. “Fuck those people,” she panted, surprising herself with both the language and the vehemence of it. “They don’t know what I need. This is what I need.”

Cat chuckled and it was equal parts sweetness and malice. “I see that.”

“And it’s what you need, too,” she went on. She could feel it building between her legs, that wonderful pressure that she had become so addicted to. “You need someone to serve you, Miss Grant, someone who can bend to your every whim, and that someone is me.”

“Good girl,” Cat whispered. She leaned over and tapped the call button. “Seamus, change of plans. Take us to my place, please.”

“Of course, Miss Grant.”

Kara looked at her expectantly, still moving herself against her own fingers and soaking up the heat of Cat’s hungry stare. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan is you’re going to stroke yourself for me, till you come. Then, we are going back to my place, and you are going to eat me out, again and again and again, until I can’t stand anymore. And then, I am going to bend you over every surface I can find, and fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Kara laughed through her labored breathing. “You … you may be at it for a while,” she warned.

“I don’t care,” Cat growled, her voice becoming lower. “You’re mine, and I want to know what it takes.”

“What it takes to do what?” Kara asked, her fingers drawing her closer to orgasm.

“What it takes to break you,” Cat replied, leaning closer, her voice dropping almost an octave.

Kara shuddered. “Oh, GOD,” she moaned, her fingers moving faster over her wet clit that was practically rising up to meet her touch.

“Do you want that?” Cat continued to purr, watching less of Kara’s fingers now and more of her face.

“Oh, yes, Miss Grant.”

“Just the thought of it is making you come, isn’t it?” She pressed.

Kara moaned again. She was having trouble making words now.

“You want me to break you, don’t you,” Cat rasped, leaning closer still.

Kara whimpered quietly. “Yes, Miss Grant.”

“You’re mine now,” Cat growled into her ear. “And that’s exactly what you want.”

Kara couldn’t do anything but breathe harder and quicken her frantic pace.

Cat bit her own lip. “You’re not the only one who can smell it when a woman needs to come, Kara,” she hissed against Kara’s cheek, and the hot breath send a tremor down Kara’s spine. “Come for me now, like I can tell you need to, and I will fuck you harder than last time. I will make your pussy mine.”

That was more than Kara could stand. She tumbled over the edge, thrashing with orgasm under Cat’s watchful, burning gaze. “It’s yours,” she moaned over and over. “It’s yours, it’s already yours, Miss Grant, just take it. Just take it.” And everything in her head went silent for a minute as she let herself climax, shuddering, half-naked, on the expensive leather seat.

She caught her breath after a few moments of breathing deeply with her eyes closed. “Miss Grant,” she sighed, and couldn’t say anything else.

She opened her eyes to find Cat gazing thoughtfully at her. “I don’t understand it. You’re so… you look so wholesome. How can this be what you want?”

Kara shrugged. “It just is. Just like it’s what you want.” She bit her lip. “ I didn't know that about myself until I met you.” Kara picked up her underwear and tucked it into her purse. “I don’t know how to be you, Miss Grant. I wouldn’t know what to do with power. I’m afraid of it,” she told Cat frankly. “But you… you couldn’t be me, either… could you?” She looked questioningly at Cat. “You need to be in control all the time, don’t you?”

She started to slide back into her shirt and button it back up again as Cat considered her. “Of course I do,” Cat admitted. “My ex-husband a difficult time with that,” she added with a wry smile.

After a few silent moments in which she watched Kara fiddle with buttons, she added, “Finish putting yourself back together, Kara. We're almost there.”


	8. Epilogue

It wasn’t until several hours later that they had a real conversation.

It was after Kara had spent time on her knees devouring Cat repeatedly, after Cat had laid Kara on her back and ridden her mouth to not one but two orgasms, after Cat had fucked Kara once from behind, once on her back with her knees pushed up to her chest, once slammed up against the tile in the shower with the water streaming down their skin (they both came, Kara twice). After Cat had spread Kara on her back on the dining room table and sat comfortably in a chair and leaned down, licking Kara until she was moaning loud enough to rattle the dishes in the china cabinet. After Cat had taken a finally-exhausted Kara, laid her down in the bed, and ground herself out one last time on Kara’s firm, muscular thigh. Kara liked that best of all; Cat just simply enjoying herself on Kara’s body and wringing the pleasure she needed from it. Taking what she wanted from her. Getting off on her. It filled her chest with a warmth she’d never felt as she lay loose and relaxed on the soft mattress, sinking into it, watching Cat’s hips grinding and her tits shaking and her mouth slack with pleasure as she lost herself in Kara’s body.

“You understand,” Cat began afterwards, lounging on the bed beside her, “that this–”

“Isn’t a relationship. You’re not my girlfriend. I know all that,” Kara interrupted her, yawning.,

“Clever you,” Cat said sternly, “but that’s not what I was going to say.”

Kara turned her head and looked at her.

“This has to remain a secret. End of discussion. We do not go out to dinner, we do not hold hands at the movies. It should never even cross anyone’s mind that there is anything more than a boss/employee relationship.” She turned onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow, looking at Kara very seriously. “You being my assistant, I already entrust you with many of my secrets. This needs to be one more.”

Kara smiled tiredly at her. “I have secrets, too, Miss Grant.”

Cat pursed her lips. “I imagine you do. I wonder if you know what they all are.”

 

***************

  
So, it wasn’t love. But it was something.

No matter what they called it, they needed each other. Kara was Cat’s indispensable assistant. Cat was Kara’s demanding but brilliant mentor. And behind closed doors, they were each other’s drug, each other’s solace, each other’s escape. Kara could never tell Alex or anyone else about what she had with Cat Grant, Queen of All Media. They wouldn’t understand. Especially not Professional Feminist™ Alex. Alex would say she was being taken advantage of.

But Kara knew better. She had given herself freely. And she was learning about power. Its subtleties, its vagaries, its ambiguities, the delicacy of its exchange. Every time Cat tied her to the bed, or blindfolded her, or made Kara beg for the taste of her pussy before granting it, Kara glowed with it. Because she slowly understood that she held power, too. Not just her physical power; the fact that she could see through her blindfold or break through her bonds was an incandescent little secret she would hang onto for a long time. But she understood more and more how to wield the softer, subtler power that came with knowing that Cat needed her to be that well of submission, that Cat’s body was addicted to hers, that Cat’s mind was irreparably broken by the knowledge that Kara could take it all, no matter what it was. She was the bottomless bottom and Cat would fall into her, bit by bit.

Kara, for her part, needed Cat just as much, if not more. For inspiration, example, stability, strength… and for the simple pleasures of Cat cuffing her to the bed, teasing her with the tip of the strap-on, growling into her ear, “Now show me that beautiful cunt, darling… now beg me to fuck it.” The filthier Cat’s language, the wetter it made Kara. Though Kara never talked that way (except on rare occasions when Cat would withhold something in order to make her), she loved –no, she adored– hearing it come out of Cat’s mouth, more than she could express.

Later, when she would come out with her powers and become Supergirl, Kara would need the refuge of Cat’s bed and the freedom of placing herself in Cat’s service even more.

So, it wasn’t love. But it was something. And she needed it.

Cat was indeed stormy, mercurial, and as narcissistic as everyone suggested. But she was also a sentimental soul, though she took pains to hide it. Kara came to recognize a Cat Grant gesture of caring or tenderness for what it was, because from the outside, it would look like nothing at all; a pile of M&Ms on the desk, a brand-new blouse or pair of shoes that Cat would claim was a gift that didn’t fit from someone she didn’t like, but Kara knew had to have been bought for her because they were always mysteriously, coincidentally exactly the right size. Kara came to see the ache behind the hunger when Cat was taking her in bed, came to see that the commands all had a silent “please” after them, because she had found something in Kara that she needed so much, it frightened her a little.

She learned, as she went further down the rabbit hole, that Cat would continue for a little while to feel strangely guilty about it, that she still couldn’t shake the feeling that a pretty, wholesome, innocent young girl from the flyover states ought to be having a squeaky-clean, vanilla romance with some nice boy from the suburbs. That she was somehow taking something from Kara. It would take time to soothe that impulse, to make Cat understand that just like there were reasons for her own need to control and dominate Kara, that there were reasons for Kara’s need to receive it. That she didn’t want a boring, normal boyfriend. That she’d easily be able to get one if she wanted that but that she’d discovered something in Cat that she wanted much more. “Nobody else ever made me feel like this,” she promised Cat, kneeling in front of her, cradling her foot in her cupped hands, dragging her tongue in whorls around Cat’s delicate ankles. Cat was moaning, and it lit Kara on fire, the way it always did.

She never stopped calling Cat “Miss Grant,” no matter how frequently or how vigorously they went at one another. Cat never stopped calling Kara “Kiera,” except at moments when she was performing well behind closed doors; then it was “darling”, “sweetheart”, “my precious, wonderful little slut” (that one killed her in the best way), and of course, “Kara.” Cat could do strange and miraculous things to Kara’s heart and guts and pussy with that last one.

Was it love? She didn’t know. If it was, it wasn’t like any love she had been trained to expect. It was impossible to explain to anyone she knew. It was strange and perverted and filthy and hot and beautiful and transcendent.

Was it love? Maybe not. But it rooted her in her body and pulled her out of it all at once, and she needed it. And Cat needed it.

Was it love? She couldn’t say, didn’t dare try to say. But it was perfect.

 


End file.
